It Wasn't Much
by inuyasha's lullaby - farewell
Summary: There was a reason why he killed them: he was bored. Simple and complicated. – dark pit, the remains, and the psyche.


_**Part I - fou - "crazed"**_

"They're dead because of you. Why did you kill them? What was your purpose?"

Same old questions every single day. It bored him. He was bored again. Give him something new, please. New, fresh. They didn't realize that he had no answers that would satisfy their needs for closure, for relief, for whatever the fuck they wanted. He wouldn't lie, that's fucking pointless. He was a man of truth, damnit. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. They won't be satisfied with what he has, so he kept quiet, enduring the abuse, the reminders. He never answered any of the questions, and he never will.

"Lucina Lowell. Link Kokiri. Corrin and Corrina Contraire. Palutena Déesse. Shulk Caldwell. Those names have meaning, for they were names of innocent people, people who are gone _because of you._ "

"Marth Lowell. Cloud Strife. Viridi Soleil. Zelda Hyrula. Peach Toadstool. Ike Greil. Lives ruined because of you, never able to unsee the horror you've caused."

"They were your friends! What kind of person does this to their friends?"

He heard the same things every single day. This was all to break him, to hurt him, to make him feel what they felt. He was now a monster in the eyes of society, viewed with disdain to the world. They all think he's sick, that something in his brain went snap. He wanted to prove them wrong, but no one would believe him, which was quite understandable. To everyone, he was crazy. To himself, he was just Dark Pit.

"Why did you do it? What happened to make you do this?"

Same old questions every single day.

It bored him.

* * *

Somebody in the room across from him attempted to hang himself. The security rushed in quick, tackling the poor fellow to the ground. He was frothing at the mouth, spouting out nonsense and other babbling bullshit. They dragged him away to God knows where, and soon the hallway grew eerily quiet, just like always.

Dark Pit was sure no one would stop him if he tried that. He constantly wondered if he should test that theory.

According to other patients, the smart-looking people on the television said that it was best for Dark Pit to be in the asylum. Where he could've gone wouldn't help him at all. He needed help.

Some said it was too late for him to get help.

Others believed that he needed to go rot in a dirty cell.

Dark Pit didn't care what they thought. He didn't care what anyone thought, and that included himself.

* * *

Dinner was a piece of bread, some soup, peaches, and chocolate milk. Originally Dark Pit had a glass of water, but somebody asked could he switch because he was fucking tired of being treated like a child.

That person was only sixteen.

Dark Pit didn't immediately drink the chocolate milk. The liquid reminded him of how Pit would always gulp down a gallon of the stuff. He thought back to that day, that day where he changed his life for what everyone assumed was the worse, and he woke Pit up early and told him to go to the store. Told him that they were out of chocolate milk. The poor angel was shocked and in complete disbelief, and, without hesitation, left his room, gathered his stuff, and went to the store.

He wondered if Pit felt lucky that he listened to him that day.

The dark angel opened the carton, turned it over, and watched expressionlessly as it stained the carpet.

~•~ • ~•~

 _ **Part II - sans âme – "soulless"**_

He expected that someone would visit him one day.

Marth Lowell was the only one to greet Dark Pit. Chrom just stared, and the raven-haired boy could clearly see the hatred in his eyes. His anger was understandable., the tension was understandable. The only thing that wasn't understandable to Marth nor Chrom was why the dark angel did it.

"I came here for answers," Chrom stated plainly. Forthright. Straight to the point. "I came here for answers as to why you've killed my daughter."

"Just like everyone else," Dark Pit remarked. This was boring. "You won't be happy with what I tell you."

"What the hell does that mean?" the bluenette growled. Wouldn't be happy? He already wasn't happy. He was livid, he was pissed. Robin couldn't stop crying. Morgan barely speaks to anyone anymore. Chrom was beyond the point of not being "happy".

"How are you holding up, Marth?" Dark Pit asked, ignoring Chrom. It was a genuine question. "Did you get the blood out of your clothes yet? It must be a hard process."

Marth blinked. Did he really just ask that? Was this really being treated as some casual meeting? "There's not a single day I don't think about her, you know," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I know."

"There's not a single moment I don't think about her soft smile or her graceful movements or her silly puns." Marth blinked again. His eyes were wet. He wasn't sure when he started crying, but the way his tears streamed down his face indicated that he won't be stopping anytime soon.

And Dark Pit just stared at him.

"There's not a single moment where I don't think about any of them. Do you not realize how hard this is? Do you not realize that every night Peach calls me and cries? Zelda can't even sleep anymore. I wanted Ike to come, but he said he wasn't ready yet. To be honest, I'm not ready myself. But I need to know. Chrom needs to know. We all need to know. Dark Pit, why did you do it?"

"Answer him," Chrom added.

Dark Pit paused for a moment, sighing heavily. They weren't different. They just wanted to know.

"If it makes you both feel better, I'm sure they all miss you."

Marth's eyes widened. It didn't take nothing but a second before Chrom leaped over the table, hands wrapped around the dark angel's throat.

"I'll kill you! I'll fucking rip your throat out you little shit! How could you do this! _How could you do this to Lucina?!_ "

Kill. Yes, that's what he wanted. He wanted to be killed. He deserved to be dead.

A lot of manpower had to be used to restrain Chrom. He was dragged out of the room, yelling profanities, struggling against the guards' tight hold. Marth only looked at the dark angel, blue eyes sadly staring down upon. He couldn't every comprehend what just happened. The Hero-King mumbled a simple "Bye."

Dark Pit waved goodbye.

* * *

Rosalina wasn't present when it all happened. She was blissfully hanging out with Princess Daisy when the news appeared on TV.

She was shocked to see Dark Pit getting arrested. Shocked and confused at the situation. The angel looked so resigned, as if he fully accepted what was happening to him.

She fainted as she saw Peach's injured body.

Rosalina was slightly taken aback when she saw the dark angel at the asylum. He looked a bit sickly yet mature, and his red eyes became a muted carmine as opposed to the bright orbs they once were. Surprisingly, she held no anger, no contempt towards him. Only some sort of sadness and deep, deep pity.

"You're here to question me too?" he asked roughly. The doctors questioned him a lot today, and he was really, really tired. He just wanted to sleep, preferably forever. Rosalina analyzed his appearance. His black hair was a mess, and the white hospital clothes looked so uncharacteristic on him.

"Say I'm ill or a sociopath?" he continued. "Or how about a psychopath? They say there's a difference, but I see no difference."

"I'm not here to place blame," Rosalina said delicately. Her blue eyes attempted to search those red ones for a sign of anything, just _anything._

She received nothing.

"Not placing blame? That's stupid. I killed your friends – hate me or something."

"They were your friends, too," she pointed out.

"Obviously not anymore."

"You can't just disregard them. They were living, breathing human beings. Did they mean nothing to you?"

"They meant something," Dark Pit admits. And that's all he says. Rosalina sits there for a moment, waiting for anything else to be said, but receives nothing but the constant ticking of a clock.

She gets up, bids her farewells, and leaves.

* * *

"Some people say the gods will be sending you to the Underworld for what you have done." It's been two months since the incident, and this was Cloud Strife's first time seeing Dark Pit again. Bayonetta wondered why, why waste your time with someone like him. Cloud didn't have an exact answer at the time, so he just said, "I don't know. I just need to."

Freshly brewed memories overwhelmed the swordsman, dirtied memories of death and sacrifice, memories of a quickly-blossomed friendship ended so early.

Cloud still gets shivers down his spine when the events replay in his mind.

Dark Pit didn't find it odd that he was wearing Link's famed hat.

"Gods don't exist." That was the response, and for some reason, Cloud kind of expected to hear that.

"Ironic, coming from your mouth. What about Palutena? She was a goddess, she existed. Until…until _you_ happened." Cloud paused to take a sip of his coffee. The brown liquid was cold and a bit sludgy, and there weren't enough creamers and sugars to balance out the bitterness. The blonde slammed the mug on the table, disappointed that even the drinks here were pathetic.

"I…I'm not much of a religious man myself," Cloud admitted. "Even after seeing Palutena and Viridi, it's still kinda unreal. However, I _respected_ Palutena, not worshipped, _respected_. So I ask again: what about Palutena? _What about her?_ "

Dark Pit blinked. They were going this route, they were having this conversation. "She's dead. Therefore, she does not exist. There is no reason in believing what does not exist in front of my eyes."

Cloud shifted slightly in his seat. He was uncomfortable, this chair was uncomfortable, the air in the room was thick, and he just wanted to wring the little bastard's neck.

But he couldn't. He couldn't give in so easily. It's what Dark Pit wanted. Cloud couldn't give him that, not after what he has done.

"You're trying to provoke a response from me, aren't you? Is that what you wanted from everyone? A _response?_ Do you even _know_ what kind of response you wanted? Did you…did you think you would garner something else besides sadness?"

"Does my answer matter now? I've received something; I'll take it with full stride."

"You received the anger and sadness of Marth and Pit and me and countless others. You've received the blood of your friends on your hands. Lucina. Palutena. Corrin and Corrina. Shulk. _Link._ Link, who jumped in the way just to protect some worthless human like me? Is this really what you wanted to receive?"

Dark Pit looked away for a moment, staring at the blank wall with blank eyes. He could feel Cloud's icy blue eyes piercing into him, and when he returns the gaze, he notices that they look just as soulless as his.

But he knew he shouldn't compare. This was different – they were different. On different levels, different pages, a whole fucking different tainted spectrum.

"…I don't know," the dark angel revealed. "Does that satiate your questioning?"

"What do you think? I'm pretty sure I'll get nothing from you. I'm done."

"Okay. Okay," Dark Pit said as he Cloud stood from chair, knocking over the coffee in the process. Brown slime seeped into the carpet. It won't be cleaned any time soon.

Cloud Strife was a mere inch from the door before he turned around, taking one last look at Dark Pit. He stared at a shell of a former being, some…some unrecognizable specimen.

"When you die, it's going to be alone. No one to say goodbye, _nothing._ You'll be lifeless, gone."

Dark Pit smiled. "Yeah, just like Link."

* * *

Chrom Lowell didn't eat that night, just like the previous ten nights. Robin begged and begged him to eat something, just take _one small bite._

He couldn't.

That night, Robin Lowell fell asleep. Chrom waited until she was sound asleep. He couldn't sleep that night anyway. It was for the best. Sleeping brought nightmares. Sleeping brought back memories.

Chrom left the shared bedroom and entered the hallway. There were no guards. Despite their protests, Chrom sent them all home for the night. Interference is bothersome.

He stopped by Morgan's room. The boy seemed to be sleeping peacefully, which was a good thing. A gleam of gold caught his eye, and Chrom noted that he was sleeping with Lucina's tiara again. It was one of the few belongings they have left of her. Kissing Morgan's forehead, Chrom apologized.

Leaving his son's room, Chrom made a quick stop to the kitchen and quickly devoured an apple. It tasted bitter, but he powered through. There, he did what Robin asked of him. It was the least he could do for her. It was the least he could do for anyone nowadays.

He soon found himself in her room. Nothing was moved, nothing was changed. The picture Marth drew of her was still on the wall. Her trophies she won for her battles in tournament were still on her shelf. Even the mock autograph Bowser gave her lied on her desk. A small note was next to it. Get a frame for this was written in large, cursive handwriting.

 _This was all too much to handle._

Pulling out Falchion, Chrom admired the sword for a bit. The second copy of it was locked away in the basement of the castle, far from anyone's eyes. He admitted that there were better ways to do this, but this was the quickest.

That night, Chrom wouldn't have to see the sadness in his son's eyes anymore, the hurt, the pain.

That night, Chrom wouldn't have to hear and see his wife's sobs again, only to for her to wipe her tears away and pretend she was fine.

That night, he'll see his little Lucy again.

* * *

"Do they let you watch the news?" Rosalina asked the following morning. She didn't bother putting on makeup, and Dark Pit could easily tell that she hasn't been sleeping well.

Dark Pit shook his head. "As you can see, I own no television. They think I'll smash the fucking TV over my head. That's funny. That's a funny way to go."

"The Halidom of Ylisse is in mourning again," the princess continued.

"Over Lucina still? It's been half a year now."

"Over their Exalt committing suicide last night. I tried contacting Robin, but the only people that answer are her advisors. They tell me now isn't a good time, please call back later."

"What does this mean? The world hates me even more?"

"It means you can add another person to the list of people you've killed."

* * *

Pit hated walking outside. Those stares of pity bothered him. Sometimes they'd asked why Dark Pit did it. He was the closest to him. Pit could only shake his head. He didn't know why Dark Pit did it. He feels like he should know, and he could have stopped him, but he didn't. _Stop looking at me like that, stop asking me that,_ he would think. _I don't need it, I don't need it. He wasn't like this. I don't know what happened._

Even now he could hear the whispers, the murmurs.

" _Ah, that's the good one, Pit."_

" _Thank God he didn't turn out to be so fucked-up like_ him _."_

" _I feel sad for the poor boy, knowing that he's related to Dark Pit."_

" _Ugh, don't even_ say _his name. Dark Pit's a screwed-up boy. Isn't worthy of shit. They should have let him kill himself like he'd originally planned."_

" _Shut the fuck up!_ " Pit screamed, clutching onto himself. Everyone looked at him. He never used words like that before, never _screamed_ like that before, but he was tired and sick of hearing it all. His voice was shrill, full of pain and anger. "Just stop! You fuckers know nothing! _Nothing!_ "

The area became uncomfortable. Pit felt like the air evaporated into smoke. Where did it go? Where did it go? He needed to breathe, he couldn't breathe –

The angel ran as fast as he could.

* * *

"I was wondering if you would ever visit me."

Pit sat across from Dark Pit. This place wasn't for Dark Pit. He shouldn't be here. This should have never happened.

 _He hated this so much._ He hated what his twin had become. This was unreal. He couldn't acknowledge it; he didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Pittoo…I mean, Dark Pit, why? What happened?" he whispered.

Dark Pit laughed. It was sarcastic, taunting. "Have you've been living under a rock? I've killed some of our friends and now I'm in a nut house. The food sucks. People stare at my ass in the showers. Some woman down the hall screams at night. It's fucking paradise."

"You…you aren't right, Dark Pit. They'll make you better."

Once again, the dark angel laughed. He grabbed Pit's hand, squeezing it gently. The good angel didn't want to admit how that touch sent shivers down his spine. He didn't want to admit that he was slightly repulsed.

"You can still call me Pittoo if that brings you back to the good ol' days. It's funny how you think I'm getting treatment. I see a doctor, I'm prescribed pills, I give those pills to the crazy people in the bathroom. They say I've got some type of disorder. Say it stems from anxiety or being anti-social or some shit like that. I say they're stupid as hell. I don't have anything. I'm perfectly normal. _I'm in my right state of mind._ "

"You weren't then!" Pit protested. Dark Pit smirked.

"I most definitely was, Pit-stain."

A silence grew between them. Pit contemplated leaving, never returning ever again. But, there was something he needed to know. He just needed to answer to this one question and he'll go, he'll go and he'll try to move forward.

Or maybe he'll just die. Maybe he'll give Dark Pit what he wanted.

"Would you have killed me?" he asked innocently, finally breaking the ice. "If I decided to stay that day, would you have killed me?"

Red eyes narrowed. He should have expected this, but then again, he expected never to see Pit ever again. Pit shouldn't be on the verge of tears. He should be hating him, despising him, wishing he'd properly destroyed that damn Mirror of Truth.

"Most likely not because, you know, our connection. You die, and I cease to exist."

"But you wanted that. You tried to kill yourself afterwards."

"Yep. Yep."

"But there's a reason you told me to go to the store that day. Why?"

Dark Pit didn't answer. He didn't feel like talking anymore.

* * *

"You keep returning. Your tenth time, actually. It's been a year and two months. How can you stand to look at my vulgar face?"

Rosalina kept a blank face. "Perhaps I wish to learn the reasoning as to why my friends died at your hand."

Dark Pit smiled. "Good point. What if I told you there is no reasoning?"

"Then I will correctly perceive that you are lying. What reason would there be for lying?"

Dark Pit rolled his eyes, looking away from the princess. "You sound a lot like the doctors, and that actually is pretty damn bothersome."

"Why?"

"They try to pry into your brain, ya know?" the angel explains, messing around with the chipped paint on the wall. "Try to figure out your true story, the motivation for your actions. Did I snap? Was I abused some point? Did things get stressful for me? Why did I do what I did? They mark me as sick while people ask for them to stick a needle in my arm and get it over with."

"You get those questions a lot, don't you?" Rosalina asked. "Why'd you kill Lucina? Why'd you spare Marth? Why'd you kill Link? Why'd you spare Cloud? Why did you kill him or her? Why did you spare him or her?"

Dark Pit nodded. "I get it, I get it. Shut up. I'm Master Hand, introducing the participants of the Fourth Annual Super Smash Brothers tournament!"

Rosalina sighed. Her brain hurt trying to decipher what Dark Pit has become. Was this some twisted way of coping with what he has done? Or was he even coping? Her eyes widened as she realized the truth: _he truly felt no remorse._ No matter what, he wouldn't admit guilt over his actions, he would feel nothing. This wasn't Dark Pit anymore. The dark angel she knew was gone now.

There's only him left.

"Even now," she started shakily, "you are so sardonic. I would ask you if you feel any guilt, but I believe that whatever emotion was there has dissipated now. I realize that now, Dark Pit. I think I understand how twisted you are now."

She was right. There wasn't really anything left in him. He wasn't much then, and he isn't much now. He's nothing, really. Nothing to himself, nothing to society. It's best that way, because nothingness leads to isolation. They walk hand in hand, and Dark Pit likes to be isolated. Isolation kept him from growing attached, kept him from growing bored. In order to succeed, he needed to become detached.

In order to succeed, he _needed_ to kill them.

"Okay, okay. You've a point. Moving on?"

Rosalina shook her head. "Really, there is no 'moving on'. We'll try, but there is never truly moving on. The memory will always be there, we'll never forget it, but we'll try to handle to it."

"You'll try to gain some control in your life again?"

The princess smiled bitterly. "Funny how you say those words, and yet you can never comprehend the meaning behind them."

"They are mechanical statements. I understand, but I don't understand. There's nothing to understand. It's been months now. Why do you try to understand? What do you want from me?"

"Nothing, really. I just would like to know."

"Fine." Dark Pit sighed and turned his head towards Rosalina, finally making eye contact. He saw a tired woman, a broken woman that still tried to carry herself. The pieces were shattered, and she kept trying to pick them up, and Cloud kept trying to pick up the pieces, and Chrom gave up on picking up the pieces, and it was all his fault. There was no real denying it. _It was his fault. It was his fault. It was his fault. It was his fault._

Welcome to the Fourth Annual Super Smash Brothers Tournament. We hope you enjoy the festivities.

The dark angel spoke, and at hearing his words, Rosalina cried for the first time in a very long time.

"I was _bored_."

* * *

 **Hello, 'tis be Mika here with a darker piece than usual. I wanted to portray something more…serious, for lack of better words. I can only hope I've handled this well. I apologize in advance if anyone is offended by this story; that is not the intention.**

 **Please tell me what you think.**


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